


Transitions

by Caladenia



Series: The 27th Year [5]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 09:12:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8973715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caladenia/pseuds/Caladenia
Summary: Two women talking about ... stuff.





	

“Need a hand?”

B’Elanna did not need to look up to sense the slightly crooked smirk and blue eyes grinning down at her. Annoyed, she glanced around for a way out, trying to ignore the barely veiled sarcasm. She had chosen the more difficult but straighter route, convinced she would race first to the top. Kathryn had gone to the right, a slow passage that double backed on itself but had delivered the older and less robust woman to the top of the cliff in less than two hours. 

It was rather unfair, B’Elanna reflected, while holding to the sloping rock by three fingers and half a toehold. Just when you thought you had the measure of Kathryn Janeway, there she was, some thirty metres above your head, while you were left dangling below with nowhere to go.  
It was also thoroughly predictable and somewhat reassuring. 

The double suns were slipping towards the horizon and there would be no moons to light up the night sky, she knew.  
Time to make a move.

She let go. 

^^^^^^

“For spirit’s sake! What were you thinking?” 

“I knew I could do it,” B’Elanna said, grumbling.  
Minus a few square centimetres of skin on the underside of both arms, two dislocated fingers and one rather sore shoulder. None of which had hurt much during the hour it had taken her to finally catch up with Kathryn. She had been thoroughly distracted by the string of Klingon expletives raining down the rock face, the kind of which she had never heard uttered by a human before.  
Now that she was not moving, she was beginning to feel her aches. Still, Kathryn was surely over-reacting, ripping into the first aid kit the shuttle had deposited with all the other supplies at their destination camp. 

B’Elanna glanced at her friend’s pale and lined face. Maybe Kathryn had a point. Sliding down to the ledge they had beamed to in mid-afternoon might have been a fairly risky thing to do. Voyager was not due for another day, and the mountain they had been climbing was off the beaten track. Not the best place and time to get badly injured. 

The isolation and challenge were the main attractions of the location had said Kathryn when inviting her to the trip. Just the two of them, fresh air, an easy climb according to Voyager’s scan of the cliff, and two days without PADDs, projects, spouses, kids, and the usual distractions the Delta quadrant made a habit of throwing at them. Nothing but a pink horizon and a twenty-kilometre high peak the size of a planetoid, sitting proud in the middle of a vast rocky plain, otherwise empty of life. 

“You’ll have to wait until we get back to Voyager to have the tendon damage in your left hand properly looked at,” Kathryn said, keeping her anger under control. “Raise your arm.” She run the dermal regenerator over the bloodied skin, keeping an eye on the small screen. ”Of all the things to do, you just —” 

“How do you know so much Klingon?” B’Elanna interrupted, shuffling her bum on the camping mat.

Kathryn stopped what she was doing and lifted B’Elanna’s chin, her eyes boring into the Chief Engineer’s face. “Don’t change the topic, B’E. What you did was stupid and dangerous. You could have got yourself killed if the last bolt had failed. Don’t do that to me. Ever. Again. Is that clear?”

B’Elanna felt the old anger rise, the gut-wrenching reaction she used to experience when pushed into a corner by events she had no control over, or people who told her what she ought to do, feel, live her life. She had thought that emotion buried under the years and responsibilities, but the feeling had re-emerged recently, with Tom bearing the brunt of it.

Oh Kahless. Tom.  
Her heart sunk. He would have been hurt beyond belief if she had died, and he would never have accepted the meaningless and selfish manner of her death on this pathetic piece of rock.  
“I..., I am sorry,” she said, defeated by the same blue stare she could imagine on her husband’s face. 

Kathryn lifted an eyebrow as if not quite believing B’Elanna would give up the fight so easily, then resumed treating the woman’s skin for a few more seconds. Satisfied with the result, she switched the device off and turned aside to pack the first aid kit. 

She should have booked the holodeck instead of dragging B’Elanna here. They used to sneak away sometime, just the two of them in the empty hologrid, exchanging gossips, talking about stuff. Miral had put that indulgence to rest. Then, there had been Seven who had taken all of her freely given time. But now, it seemed that it had not been just the four pips she had left behind with the captaincy, but also all sense of duty to her former crew. Going free climbing on an unknown planet! Kim had much too much faith in her. But of course, he would agree to about anything she did, short of ... nothing much really, when she thought about it.  
In any case, she was getting much too old to survive another stunt like that. She still had not found out what was eating at B’Elanna and jumping down her throat was not going to help.

She stood up and stretched her back, before retrieving a bottle of water from the supply container. Sitting down near B’Elanna, she offered her the drink.  
”I spent a month on a Bird of Prey when I was posted on the Al-Batani. I learnt a lot on that ship, especially insults for qoHs like you.” 

Thankful for the diversion, B’Elanna answered in a voice she hoped was not as shaky as she felt. ”No mean feat for a human to serve on a Klingon ship.”

Kathryn smiled. “I had heard about Commander Riker’s experience. He took part in the first Starfleet Officer Exchange Programme with the Klingon, and when Starfleet asked for volunteers for the second intake, I put my hand up. I packed as many dermal regenerator recharges and anti-nausea pills I could. The reality was eye opening, to say the least.”  
She chuckled. “And the blood wine. And the raktajino. I had to go on a detox diet when I came back to my ship.” 

“Did you have to challenge those under you?” B’Elanna enquired. She gulped down the cool liquid. 

”Oh no! I was only a lowly Science officer back then,” Kathryn laughed. “They put me in the charge of an old and wily engineer who knew the engines of his ship inside out. Very much like another Klingon I know.” Her tone dropped, wistful. “I grew very fond of him.”

B’Elanna turned her head towards Janeway. The former Captain had her eyes fixed on the horizon, arms around the knees, the last rays of the twin suns playing in her greying hair. 

“What happened?” B’Elanna asked, sensing the sadness in her friend’s voice.

“I met the Klingon captain at a diplomatic conference a few years later. He told me K’Plar had got killed in an accident. Saved his crew by staying behind to delay a warp core implosion, refusing orders to abandon ship.”

B’Elanna nodded her approval. ”He died with honour.” Something I would not have been able to claim if I had tumbled all the way down those rocks, she thought. 

“He would not have wished for anything else,” Kathryn said softly, knowing B’Elanna had grasped the not so subtle inference. 

B’Elanna smiled wryly and felt her body relax. “What else did you learn, apart from some very creative curses.”

“That a Bird of Prey lives and breathes the same values as any Starfleet ship: courage, dedication to a cause, discipline under fire. Klingons may not express those qualities the same way, but they are a great people, and I am fortunate indeed to count one as my friend.”

Kathryn let the companionable silence grow between them, gazing at the vista stretched across the distance. She had seen more spectacular sights in a lifetime of exploration, but the tranquil scenery was soothing after the workout of the day.

She was the first to stir. Dusk was a short affair, close to the equator as they were. They still had to raise their shelter for the night, have something to eat. The local authority had warned them of sudden dust storms on top of the mesa, although the wind was light and there was no cloud to be seen in the pinkish haze. She pulled herself up, lending a hand to B’Elanna to do the same. 

They soon had the small tent up, then installed a perimeter of soft light globes. The suns dipped under the horizon, leaving a purple-tinted sky behind. 

“You never told me you could speak Klingon,” B’Elanna pointed out, tensioning the ropes holding the tent walls. 

“When I first met you, you did not seem to want to know about your non-human heritage, and frankly I had forgotten most of it.”

B’Elanna mulled over the response, then did a double take. ”Miral! Don’t tell me. You taught Miral. I was so sure it was Tom, but he insisted he did not know enough Klingon.”

“Ah, yes, well... Your daughter can be very persuasive.” Clearly embarrassed, Kathryn occupied herself by opening the ration packs. “She heard me one day swearing rather vigorously at a very stubborn transducer relay. I thought there was nobody around, and I needed the release. She did not leave me alone until I taught her some more, and it all came back to me, little by little.”  
B’Elanna sniggered, soon joined by her friend. 

The two women made themselves comfortable and tucked in the food. The night sky was busy with stars. Voyager was hurtling towards the galaxy core, and the denser clusters made a welcome change from the empty parsecs of space they had encountered at the beginning of their travel through the quadrant.  
More systems to traverse made for a slower pace, Kathryn reflected. At that rate, she was going to be well into her 12th decade before seeing Earth again. She fleetingly wondered if it was really worthwhile anymore to go tearing towards a planet that would be unfamiliar to half of the ship crew by the time they arrive. Sitting here under the stars of a multitude of worlds, her body and mind at peace, it did seem a nonsensical goal to spend their lives pursuing the past. 

“Why are we here, Kathryn? You hate camping,” B’Elanna asked, burning her lips on the hot stew.

Kathryn’s mind came rushing back to the present. “Seemed like timing, with Kim on a trade mission, and the kids and their fathers sampling the neighbouring system. Besides, I don’t hate camping. I just like to choose my outings.“ 

B'Elanna remained unconvinced. “Come on, Kathryn. We haven’t done this for years. Tom came to see you, didn’t he? One of your coffee evenings?”

“You know?” 

“Found him programming the replicator for coffees soon after Miral was born. I couldn’t drink the stuff then, EMH orders, so I asked him who it was for. He told me the two of you had that … thing,” B’Elanna said, waving her hand, “where he would come and talk to you about personal stuff from time to time. Told me it helped him gain perspective.”

Kathryn smiled. Tom had come bearing his dark fragrant gifts on a dozen occasions in the past twenty-seven years after that very first occasion, early in their journey, when he had reeled her back on board, using a devious method which had left him adrift. Two affogatos are seemingly materialised at her door on that instance.  
He had re-appeared a few years later with the same offerings, keen to explain himself after spending a month in the brig. Then a few days after Miral’s birth, as B’Elanna remembered.  
He reserved the Irish coffees for when he sensed Janeway was at breaking point; like the time Kolopak and Chakotay had disappeared, taken hostage by an alien race whose name she had purposely forgotten. 

Nothing much was ever said, but she had always been grateful for those unexpected visits. She had told Chakotay of course. He had just said ‘good’ and to her surprise, that had been the end of it. The relationship between the two men had always been a bit of mystery to her.  
Paris had never came while she shared her quarters with Seven, though. She had never asked why.

“Tom is concerned about you,” she said carefully.

“Miral is moving in with T’Por,” B’Elanna countered.

Kathryn frowned. She was pretty sure B’Elanna was not concerned about Miral’s domestic arrangements with Vorik’s daughter, but she was willing to see where the topic will lead them to. ”So I’ve heard. How do you feel about that?”

“Great. They are good together, and as long as I don’t have to hug my future father-in-law, I am OK,” B’Elanna said. 

Kathryn put her empty pack on the ground. “I have to apologise.”

B’Elanna threw Kathryn a confused look. ”What about?”

“About Vorik, when he had his pon-farr and latched onto you. I knew the damage an incomplete pon-farr could do to a Vulcan, but I never considered what the consequences would be for you. I let you down. It was wrong.”

“That was twenty something years ago, Kathryn. And you manifestly believed I could handle him.”

“Yes, I did, but that does not excuse my behaviour.“

“Well, I admit I struggled. Everybody was so concerned about Vorik, and there I was, the armour-plated Klingon all of you expected me to be. Or so I thought. And when you did treat me like one, I found out deep inside that I didn’t really measure up. Still, you made the right decision based on what you knew of me then. It’s not like you had much time to second-guess the situation.”

Janeway snorted. ”That was the issue, wasn’t? All those questionable decisions I took, harried by time and a hydra of problems.”

“I’ve never considered you were making bad decisions. It looks like whatever you decided worked at the end, and got us through.”

“That’s not what you said when I stranded you here, or when I forced you to get treated against your expressed wishes.”

B’Elanna left out an exasperated sigh. ”Come on, Kathryn. I’ve made my peace about Moset a long time ago, but you are still blaming yourself about the Caretaker, aren’t you? Why? We’ve made Voyager our home, and it’s been good to us.”

“You’ve had to make your home on a ship because the decision was made for you. It was not an unavoidable accident, was it? I made that decision, B’Elanna. It is still mine to bear. The years will never erase that.”  
Kathryn breathed in deeply, forcing herself to calm down. The transition from captain back to science had left her with too much thinking time. Chakotay had counselled her about that continual need of hers to re-assess past decisions. But right now was not about Captain Janeway’s failings.

“You are right. Voyager is our home now, and I’m glad about Miral. They make a great couple,” she said. 

B’Elanna simply nodded, Kathryn’s recollection of their early years on Voyager having brought back to her mind the disquiet she had been chewing over for some time. “I’ve always wondered..., do you regret promoting me as Chief Engineer?”

Kathryn looked at her friend. Now we are going somewhere, she thought. “That was one of my better decisions, B’E. No regrets there, whatsoever.” 

“But Carey had seniority. He was not that bad an engineer, knew Starfleet engine manuals inside out and the staff trusted him. Why me? I was argumentative...“

“Argumentative? That’s a new definition of the word,” Kathryn said with a laugh. “You were loud, self-opinionated, intolerant, and belligerent. Should I go on?” 

B’Elanna‘s mouth twitched. 

“And scared,” Kathryn added.

“Oh shit, yes. So why me?”

“Voyager in the Alpha Quadrant would have done well under Carey, but here? This ship needed you. Chakotay realised that before I did, and I’ve certainly never regretted following his advice.”

“And now?”

Closer, so much closer. “Is that what has been eating at you, B’E?” 

“With you retiring —”

“Not quite, Lieutenant Commander. I resigned from the captaincy. I have not retired,” Janeway emphasised, a self-mocking tone in her voice. 

This time, B’Elanna smiled. “With you resigning... I’ve been thinking.”

“About who will succeed you one day?”

“How did you..? Yes. I mean, I’ve still got quite a few years in me, but I can’t hang on forever. I need to think about the ship too, not just myself.”

“That is the mark of a good Starfleet officer. Who do you see taking your role?”

“Well, Naomi is the next one in line. But —.”

Janeway waited. She should have known that her resignation would have a wider impact on those close to her than just a change in captain. Chakotay had kept his own counsel, not wanting to stop her. Not that she had any qualms to pass on the baton to Kim. After all, if Voyager had managed to get back home earlier, she would most probably be ensconced behind a desk at Starfleet HQ now, not allowed to touch a starship ever again. At best, a teaching post at the Academy. At worst? No, best not to think about that scenario.

The air had grown chilly, and B’Elanna put on her jacket. “Naomi is always arguing about how to do things. She is polite and all that, but she does not take no for an answer. I mean, have you seen the new cargo bays?”

“I have. Nice touch to blend them with the hull,” Kathryn said, a bit at a loss at the turn in the conversation. 

“It’s hardly like the ship needs to be aerodynamic, is it. Do you know what she said about my original design?”

“Yes, I’ve heard,” Kathryn said, sighing. What was it with engineers and design? “You think she was wrong?”

“No, of course, not. She is right. But she is ...”

“… argumentative?”

“Yes. And good at it too.”

“Well then, you’ve got your answer.”

“That’s it? You just promote anybody who speaks the loudest?” B’Elanna exclaimed.

Janeway rolled her eyes. ”Of course not. Otherwise Harry would never have made it as captain,” she pointed out. “What I am saying is that Naomi is good. You’ve trained her, for spirit’s sake. If she is still the best you’ve got when you are thinking of changing jobs, then promote her. Look, you’re not even fifty, anyway. But once you’ve made your mind up, go for it. I realise now that I left it too long before stepping down. We can’t afford to wait too long before putting the next generation in charge. Why do you think I promoted Miral so quickly? We’ve got to push them into roles I would not have dreamt of when I was that young. But you showed me, us, that it could be done, and that’s the only way this ship and her crew will survive.”

She smiled, feeling it was time to bring back some levity. ”Do you remember when Miral disappeared for a whole day somewhere on Voyager, when she was still a toddler? Remember what she did?”

B’Elanna laughed out loud. ”She had been hiding in the Delta Flyer behind a dampening field she’d set up herself, remotely programming the transporter so she could sneak in the shuttle next time Tom was on an away mission.” She smiled at the memory. ”I had forgotten about that.” 

“Think about what the kids from a quarter Klingon and a half Vulcan will be up to,” Janeway said, a pretend shudder going through her. ”Although the human genes they’ll inherit should help tamper their talents for trouble. We, humans, are frail and irrational in comparison. Might balance out.”

“Frail and irrational, says Kathryn Janeway.” B’Elanna threw her arms in the air, then winced as her shoulder reminded her she should not try that again. “Well, I’ll just have to make sure my other daughter does not fall for Kol. Imagine that. A quarter Klingon and a half Janeway. That genetic combination will surely destroy the ship and take this quadrant with it.”

Kathryn chuckled. ”The kids would be appalled at us talking about them like that.”

“Yep, but aren’t we loving it!”

The night rung with the laughs of the two women, 40,000 light years from home.

**Author's Note:**

> Great thanks to Voyagerfictionfan for the beta and thumbs up.
> 
> This chapter references Vices by the incomparable Voyagerfictionfan, one of my own stories Harking the Dark, and the Star Trek – Next Generation episode A Matter of Honor.


End file.
